


Hiding

by MarauderCracker



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Post Civil War, the opening to a fic i will never write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:26:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6926146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarauderCracker/pseuds/MarauderCracker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being on the run is lonely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hiding

Being on the run is lonely. They can't stay together long --even in pairs, they'd be too easy to spot. Alone, he's just a guy. With Steve or Natasha by his side, people are sure to look twice. They can't afford to have people looking twice. He remembers telling Fury that he was more of a soldier than a spy but now he's learning Natasha's tricks like a second language. He represses his urge to chat up store-owners and over-tip waitresses, keeps his head down, doesn't talk much. Every couple of weeks, he puts all of his belongings back in the backpack he's been carrying and changes cities.

Every time he sees something cute or funny and wants to text his sister about it, the reminder that he cannot talk to her feels like a punch to the gut. He knows that Fury is keeping an eye on her, just like he's watching over Barton's and Lang's families, but it doesn't stop the feeling of uneasiness that plagues him constantly. He thinks of his nieces, of what would happen if any of them got sick or happened to be in an accident or-- Or the government went looking for them, tried to use them as bait to drag him out of hiding. The thought makes him nauseous. 

 

In London he finds an Indian place that looks almost exactly like the one he and his friends frequented in college, but it still doesn't feel like home. He reads a bunch of novels and tries not to obsess over the news and counts the days until the next time he meets up with Steve or Nat for a check-in.

He's in Barcelona, watching the kids in a skate-park doing some truly impressive tricks, when a woman sits next to him. He tenses instantly, but the woman just opens a magazine and starts reading. Don't stand up just yet, Natasha's voice sounds in his head, it'd be suspicious. Give it a couple minutes, then walk away casually. He looks at the woman out of the corner of his eye. She looks somewhat familiar, but--

"My name is Nakia. My boss wants to talk to you," the woman says. Sam recognizes the accent. He sees her sliding a piece of paper over the bench, but doesn't move to grab it. The woman flips through the magazine for another minute, while Sam looks at the kids jumping over the ramps. Then, finally, he moves to stand up, catching the paper with a casual movement as he does so. He walks away --casually. Takes a dozen extra turns in his way back home, making sure that he isn't being followed.

Only when he's back at the apartment, with the curtains closed and the door locked and bolted shut, does he pull the paper out of his pocket. In a tiny, neat handwriting, the note reassures him that nobody except T'Challa and his security team know that he's in Barcelona. "You should maintain a low profile for the next couple of days, as General Ross and his people are in Spain too," the note advises. After explaining that his security team spotted him during retcon and Wakanda has no intention of aiding the United States in the persecution of Rogers and his team, there is an invitation. "I will be in Switzerland next Wednesday. If you wish to talk, the Schluessel hotel will have a room waiting for you."

 

The first thing Sam tells T'Challa, King of Wakanda, the Black Panther; as he pulls out a chair and sits down on his table without asking for permission "You've got really bad taste in beer."


End file.
